Gyrfalcon's Keep in all chaos there is calculation [m]

The changing course of the wind does not bring the presence of the other to her attention, and she continues plodding along through the rocky meadow. Large, weather-rounded boulders dot the terrain while smaller rocks are scattered throughout. The grasses are not tall here, and instead remain windswept and low, tucked away against the safe nooks the rockery provides.

Solveig bounds atop a structure of flat rocks and deposits both kills on the stone slab. Her ears perk, and she looks skyward to the kneeing gyrfalcons circling above. They had followed the scent of blood, and now began to land in a wide circle around the she-wolf; at least five of them. Not many, as they were not known to flock, but enough.

She smiles, turns, and immediately her expression shifts to distant curiosity as she catches sight of the gray scale male on the fringes of the meadow. Her paws steady beneath her, and she straightens to stand at her full height and waits.